


all night long, he's got the beat

by feistymuffin



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daddy Kink, Fluff, Light BDSM, M/M, Rimming, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 03:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feistymuffin/pseuds/feistymuffin
Summary: Jack gets a new job at a club. His first night turns out to be pretty eventful. Alternate title: The One Where Jack Gets That Dick





	

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know why but this has been a back burner story that i never actually started until like four days ago and it has possessed me until the moment of its completion so hERE JUST TAKE IT
> 
> songs mentioned are Fuck Him, He's a DJ by Ke$ha and Starving by Hailee Steinfeld
> 
> (i am so sorry everybody, i have sinned)

Jack lets Felix hand him the leather pants with a skeptical eyebrow. "Explain this to me again. Just for fun."

The blond gives a small shake of his head. "It's not that fuckin' hard, man. Put the pants on. You will guaranteed have sex tonight." He gestures down to his own pants, which are not leather. "Why do you think I'm wearing jeans to a club? The taken dudes dress like hobos. The single dudes dress like some billionaire's twenty-year-old little shit who has raging mommy issues but also way too much good fashion sense."

"And you lost me again," Jack says, trying to hand the pants back. "Listen, I'm actually supposed to work when I work, so my arse can't be huntin' people down, leather-clad or not."

Felix rolls his eyes and shoves them back into Jack's arms. "Please, Jack. You're a DJ. Your computer is fully capable of playing set lists, which means you are fully capable of getting fucked."

_Well, there goes my entire argument,_ Jack thinks dismally. _Shit._ "Your investment in my love life is really concernin'," he grimaces. He looks down at the pants, lip curled with distaste. "Are you really goin' to force me to fuckin' wear these?"

"I'll get the butter and shove you into them myself," Felix promises with a dangerous look. "Don't try me, buddy. Now strip and put on the pants. You're late in fifteen minutes."

"You're a menace," Jack says snidely, unfastening his jeans and shucking them down his legs. After he steps out of them he takes the leather pants and puts a foot in one leg, but Felix is shaking his head. "What now?"

"You can't wear that underwear with leather," Felix tells him with a grin a mile wide. 

Jack looks at him blankly. "This is the only type of underwear I own." At that, Felix's expression is far too amused. "No," Jack says at once. "I'm not--Christ, Fe, this is my first night at this place. And for that matter, I'm workin'! I can't go fuckin' commando!" 

"Well, the way you tell it, you're not even going to be letting anyone take them off of you, so why does whatever's under, or not under, your pants matter?" Felix says smugly. The prick.

Letting out a frustrated growl, Jack shoves Felix's shoulder and snaps, "Get out of my bedroom, then, and go start your car. I'll be right down." The Swede laughs as he exits, shutting the door behind him and muffling the sound.

Glaring at the pants in his hands, Jack drops them to bend and remove his boxers. He stands half-naked for a long few seconds, giving the leather a stare-down as he gathers the courage to wear them and smothers his shame for giving in. With a heavy sigh he picks them up and steps each foot into its respective leg hole. He spends an inordinate amount of time heaving and squeezing his way into them, but Jack will admit he feels a small, pathetic sense of accomplishment at finally doing up the zipper and button.

Felix gives him a once-over as he climbs into the passenger seat of his car. "Nice," he compliments. "I knew brown would be your colour. And good call on changing your shirt."

Jack gives a half-smile. Somewhere between getting into the pants and preening at how great his ass looks in his full-length mirror, Jack decided he needed to up his game beyond a simple white t-shirt, and opted for a loose-fitting tank top that freely exposes a lot of his upper body. Jack then spent another minute admiring how good he looked before remembering that someone was actually waiting for him, and bolted down to Felix's car.

"I am a petty, vain creature," Jack says, fixing his hair in the drop-down mirror as Felix pulls into the road. 

"But damn if you ain't a good-looking one," Felix chuckles.

They park a block away from the club and make the short walk, Jack's computer bag over his shoulder. When the neon word _Ecstasy_ come into view they loop around to the back door of the building where security lets Jack in after a quick peek at his ID. 

He navigates into the building, going down back hallways until he and Felix empty out into the club, house lights on as employees bustle about prepping for the night ahead. He looks around until a passing bouncer takes pity and comes up to them. "Who you looking for?" he asks. 

"Tyler," Jack says gratefully. "I'm the new DJ."

"He's been waiting for you, he's at the bar," the bouncer says, giving him a nod before walking off. 

Jack and Felix make their way to the bar, where a tall, curly-haired brunet with glasses sits talking to the four bartenders. "... Mandy, make sure you're on top of shooters, we have the new DJ debut special tonight. And Amy, if you could make sure to tell me when the DJ actually gets here, he's--"

"Late, I know," Jack says at his shoulder, and everyone turns to him. "Sorry. I'm the tardy DJ."

The brunet smiles wide. "Hey, great. I'm Tyler, I manage... well, everything. Let's go get you set up, hey? Oh, actually, while I've got you here... Guys, this is Jack, the DJ. Jack," Tyler says, standing and putting a casual hand on his shoulder. He towers over Jack, and the Irishman tries his best not to glower. "These four are my main bartenders, so you'll be seeing a lot of them." He points down the line of people as he introduces, "Amy," a slim, pretty blonde with big, warm brown eyes and a great smile, "Mandy," a short, long-haired redhead with a petite frame and cute face, "Wade," a tall, balding young man--even taller than Tyler--with a full beard, "and Mark."

The muscular brunet at the end of the congregation of bartenders smiles charmingly, and Jack's breath catches. He's relatively short compared to his male coworkers, but only Jack's superior by a few inches. His hair, the top half of which is dyed a shocking red, shines in the bright overhead lights, his bangs swept away from his face. He's wearing glasses, minimalistic frames modestly accentuating his chocolate brown eyes that seem to be overflowing with amusement. His face is all masculine, with a wide mouth to go hand-in-hand with his wide jaw and a strong nose set perfectly between high cheekbones. 

Jack might be screwed. "Nice to meet everybody," he says, smiling. He watches the other three bartenders turn to peek at Mark, who's still looking at Jack.

"Ty, come bug me when you get a sec," Mark says idly.

Tyler's hand on Jack's shoulder drops, instead giving Mark a thumbs-up as he leads Jack away from the bar, down onto the dance floor and over to his setup. The turntables are on a stage, facing out into the club and in sight from basically every spot in the room. Jack climbs up the ledge and bounces to his feet, eyes everywhere as he examines the equipment and its placement. Everything's fairly new, and in good shape to boot.

"How's it look, Jack?" Tyler asks him curiously. "Up to your standards?"

"Yeah, this'll work like a dream," he tells Tyler, standing on the floor below him. Jack slips his bag off his shoulder, bending to unzip it and extract his laptop. He goes about plugging everything in--also having to dig out some necessary cables and cords from his bag--and doing a full sound test. "This will be borin'," Jack says with a chuckle when Tyler lingers.

"Just a couple more things," Tyler says. "You're allowed to drink while you work, but keep it reasonable. If you can't DJ drunk, don't get yourself drunk and make me cab you back home and look for a replacement." Jack nods. "The bartenders will bring you drinks periodically, let them know your poison beforehand. And, come to me or Mark, or Ken--our head bouncer--if you have any questions. Ken is a big bear, basically. Big and tall, dark beard, heavy eyebrows, but he's a sweetheart. He's usually watching the floor from the end of the bar, so that's likely where you'll find him. I myself usually stay near the stairs in case I get a call and have to take it quick, and Mark wanders when the bar is slow--otherwise he's there."

Jack grins. "Got it. Thanks, chief." When Tyler gives him a wave and walks away, he takes his headphones and puts them on, plugging them in and immersing himself in sound. Distractedly he sees Felix at the bar, being his chatty self with the bartenders as he kills time until the fun starts. 

Some twenty minutes later he's bumped out the kinks and has his headphones set aside, letting the noise carry into the room so Jack can perfect its levels. His crowd favourites playlist is playing on loop, since they're songs that are pretty much guaranteed to be played. He's fiddling with the decks, scratching here and there to get a good feel for the discs and their sound when he feels a thumping vibration in his feet and looks around. Mark, the sexy brunet is standing at the left side of his tables, leaning forward onto the stage with a drink in his hand.

Jack turns the volume way down then moves over to him, crouching. "Hey," he greets, adding with a gesture, "you know I didn't order that, right?"

"This one's from me," Mark says, smiling wide. "I wasn't sure what your tastes were, but your friend Felix assured me that you like sweeter drinks."

"I do," Jack says, smiling. He drops onto his butt, dangling his legs off the side of the stage as he accepts the drink. Mark's fingers brush his when he pulls back, and Jack feels the sensation all the way up his arm. He takes a sip. "Oh, purple haze! Yeah, I love these."

"Any other requests?" Mark asks him, his voice low and deep. His fingers tease at the seam down the side of Jack's pants, the stupid leather pants.

"Better acoustics?" Jack replies, somewhat tentative as he tries to ignore the giddy feeling of Mark's touch. He quickly gets to his feet on stage, drink in hand, and backs up a couple steps towards the tables. "Em, thanks for the drink. We probably open soon, yeah?"

Mark's grin is predatory. Jack gulps. "We sure do. I'll see you for your next round, okay?" He stands straight, pushing off the stage and definitely displaying the hypnotic flex of his arm muscles on purpose. Jack has to turn away to not trace the veins up those forearms with his eyes.

"Yeah, see you," Jack gets out, head down. Mark walks away and he can breathe again.

Felix comes up to the stage about an hour and a half after the doors open, house lights long since gone out to be replaced with the dancing myriad of colourful spotlights and displays. Music is already blaring from the speakers and encouraging the substantial number of patrons to get on their feet. He clambers up onto the ledge and comes over to talk in Jack's ear over the noise. "Going well up here?"

"She's grand," Jack replies, equally close. Felix has to bend significantly to get on his level, but the Swede doesn't seem to mind.

"You know," Felix says loudly, with a smirk, "Buff, Dark and Sexy has had his eyes on you the whole time. Whenever he's done a drink he looks over here. He's actually watching right now."

Jack spins to face the front of the club and sure enough, Mark is looking at him from behind the bar, hands over his shoulder as he shakes a mixer. When he sees Jack is looking back, he grins wide and winks before he turns away to finish the drink.

"Oh," Jack says weakly. He looks up at Felix, a tad desperate. "What the hell do I do?"

"What the fuck do you mean, what do you do?" Felix says, outraged. "You march over there and fornicate on the fucking bar, that's what! Look at that guy, he is all over you and he wants every piece of this--" Felix gestures to Jack's entirety, "--if the way he constantly wants to talk about you with me is any indication."

Jack balks. "I can't sleep with him, he's literally my brand new coworker. And, from what I gather he's head bartender. He's like my supervisor, that's--"

"Super sexy and perfect fodder for role playing," Felix finishes, then laughs uproariously at Jack's crimson expression. "Jack, come on, you have to go for this. He is so fucking good-looking, and he wants you! You!"

Jack grits his teeth to prevent chewing on his fingernails. "I don't need a man, you know, Fe."

Felix lifts an eyebrow, smiling knowingly. "So you don't want to find someone to share the rest of your life with then?"

"This is not the same," Jack huffs. "You're tryin' to get me laid, not set me up with Mr. Right."

Now both blond eyebrows are up Felix's forehead. "And what makes you think I didn't do my homework?"

The words sit on Jack like a bouncy two-year-old, irritating and likely irremovable. "No, you did not do what I think you're implyin', because you know that I would kill you," Jack says, a stab at casual even as he feels his temper rise.

"Oh, Jack," Felix says with a smirk. "You're scary, really you are." He turns to look over his shoulder at the bar. "Mark is twenty-six and has one older brother who still lives in Cincinnati along with his mom. He's a Cancer, he lives in the upstairs half of the building alone, and he owns the actual club with Tyler. His favourite food is tacos and he likes... salty things." Here Felix pauses, giving Jack a significant, and filthy, look. 

When Jack understands what he means he blushes worse than before. "Christ, Felix, you disgustin' bastard."

Felix grins, continuing as if Jack hadn't spoken. "He has a business degree from UCLA and he's taking online courses to finish his engineering degree. Tyler would like to add that his ass is yummy, in case you didn't know, and he's not the player you probably think he is. Mark, apparently, just really likes what you've got going on."

"You talked to Tyler?" Jack squeaks. He leans against the turntable with his hip, sighing as he rubs his face. "He is my boss, Felix. My boss!" He points a finger at him. "You should have asked first, because this is so stupidly invasive to everybody involved."

"Okay, complainer," Felix sighs. "I am sorry I used my wiles to get info about the sexy slab of dude meat that is hunting you like Bambi's mom." Jack gives him an unimpressed look. "Mark asked to have the second half of the night off so he could get to know you," Felix says, more serious. "The words he used with Tyler were "before he makes up his mind that I'm just some panting fuckboy while I try to entice him"."

Jack makes a face. "He did come on strong, you know. I'm not out of line here."

"And like you haven't had a half-chub since you walked in the door and saw him," Felix snarks back. "Don't lie to me. I know your horny face when I see it, you hypocrite. He does things for you, all of the things."

Groaning Jack shoves Felix, but the taller man barely budges. "Get out of here, you fuckin' lunatic. Go meddle with someone else." When Felix just gives him an amused smirk, Jack grunts, "I will die before I admit he turns me on. He is so out of my league, Fe." And now knowing his backstory, his personal accomplishments and some things about his personality, Jack is more hooked than ever.

His best friend smiles down at him, a soft look. "In my modest opinion, he's the one that ought to be working to get you, not the other way around."

"Quit that," Jack says. "You're just tryin' to make me forget that you fished without permission."

Felix shrugs. "But it's still true, anyway. Now c'mon, throw on an ass-shaking song and I'll get Mark on the dance floor."

Jack swallows, his eyes landing on the crowd before his turntables. "I don't think that'll be necessary." Actually, he knows so, because Mark is already there, not ten feet from the DJ booth and grinding with someone in the dense cluster of bodies. But his eyes almost never stray from where Jack is.

He feels a slap on his shoulder and turns back to Felix. "He's a man on a mission now. And I'm not about to get between you two. Enjoy, buddy!" With that Felix hops off the stage and disappears into the throng of people.

Jack chews his lip, turning back to the dance floor and meeting Mark's eyes again. He can't help himself, he has to do something. But... How does one flirt with a man in a crowd without the rest of the people in it seeing? As he watches hungrily, watches the way Mark curves his body to the beat pouring thick and heavy like tar from the speakers, Jack's mind supplies an idea.

Slinging his headphones up on his ears from their resting place around his neck, Jack scrolls through his library until he comes across his Ke$ha selection. He finds what he wants, assigns it to the incoming song spot and lines up the downbeats, then flows one song into the next, a hand on the disc. The song itself is a remix of his own, and it's thumping and rich with bass and traps. 

When the lyrics start the dance floor erupts with energy, encouraging Jack to take his headphones from his ears and set them on the tables. He walks to the side of the booth where he's exposed to the crowd of dancers. As the chorus comes in, he dances, moving his body rhythmically to the beat as he shouts the words.

"Fuck him, he's a DJ!" Jack hollers, his mouth splitting into a huge grin when he meets Mark's eyes across the few people between them. The people who can see Jack are cheering as they watch, too. "All night long he's got the beat! Fuck him, he's a DJ! Keep playin' that song, it works for me!" 

He drops onto his hands and twerks when the beat drops, slathering the room with vibrations from the woofers. The crowd screams, assumedly for him, but Jack focuses on shaking his ass more than anything. He feels those brown eyes on his the whole time, knows he's performing for just one person, really. Jack slides from twerking to a bit of breakdancing, doing handhops and windmills in his spacious area of play. He rolls to his feet once the song has melted into the next song he had queued, and he allows himself a shit-eating grin when he sees Mark staring slack-jawed up at him. 

Feeling ballsy, Jack crouches on the edge of the stage and beckons Mark over with a finger. The bartender moves to him, smiling as he looks Jack up and down. When he's within range, Jack slides a hand around Mark's neck and pulls him close until Jack's lips are at his ear. 

"I could use another drink," he says, low. He makes it a point to let his mouth brush against Mark's skin once or twice, playing with the short, dark hair at Mark's nape.

Mark pulls back enough to see his face. "You can have whatever you want," he replies, looking stricken and pleased as punch about it. Jack grins, easing back and standing. He shoos Mark as he gets behind the tables again, and the brunet walks off after grinning back.

With Mark gone again Jack breathes deeply, pressing a hand to his stomach to quell the butterflies inside it. For someone he hasn't exchanged more than fifty words with, Jack is feeling more than just a little non-physical attraction towards Mark. Honestly he could blame Felix, for building him up into a serious catch as well as the incredibly attractive person he is. But it's more than that, and Jack is a little afraid to name what it is. 

Mark returns with his drink, this time a fuzzy navel. Instead of letting Jack take it from him, though, he one-handed hops up onto the stage and approaches him. "I believe you wanted this?" he says over the music, which is less loud behind the speakers than in front, but still loud. 

"There's a lot of things I want," Jack says, accepting the glass from him and taking a large sip. He licks his lips, tasting citrus, and does it again when he sees Mark's eyes follow the action. "Think you know what they are?"

"I have several guesses I'm willing to share," Mark replies, moving closer until he's got Jack pressed up against the wall behind the DJ booth. His hands lift and smooth up his sides, thumbs brushing his skin through the pitifully thin material of his loose tank top. 

Jack's heart races at the look on Mark's face. His free hand comes up to rest on Mark's neck again, and the bartender shivers. "I'm listenin'," Jack whispers, their faces inches apart.

Mark doesn't answer him--rather, he leans forward and kisses him, aligning their mouths together in a slow caress of lips. He repeats the motion, tilting his head to pull Jack in closer. Mark kisses him tenderly, gently but firmly, and a heat builds beneath the easy touching as his hands find their way under Jack's shirt.

Jack can't hold in the small gasp as Mark's fingers touch his skin. His palms, warm and broad, slide up his back and down his stomach, across his ribs and up his chest. Jack is extremely glad he chose this shirt to wear--it's like he's not wearing anything, the way Mark's hands take and take from him and give back so much more.

"God," Mark says with a small laugh as they break apart, "you're sexy. I can't even think straight right now."

_"You_ can't think straight," Jack scoffs, letting the wall take most of his weight as Mark takes a precise step back. "Hey, I'm not finished with you."

Mark laughs again, holding both hands behind his neck like he's holding himself back. Jack watches his triceps flex with the effort. "You have no idea how far gone I am. I need to not wildly fuck you on this stage where over a hundred people can see, at my place of work."

Jack's gut seizes, butterflies gone in lieu of the fire burning within him. "Aside from the audience, I have no complaints," he says, casual, but the look he shares with Mark is anything but.

Mark shakes his head, grinning. "And I'll hold you to that, but unfortunately we have another three hours before either of us are free, so I would suggest we keep things very PG until then." He shrugs, letting his arms fall. "Absence makes the dick fonder and all that."

His grin turns filthy, and Jack chuckles. "Alright, alright. You're safe from me until 2 am, and then you're in trouble, lad."

He watches Mark go, jumping down off the stage and heading back to the bar. Every few seconds he looks back over his shoulder and finds Jack, and each time Jack's breath catches a little. 

For the next couple hours he buries himself in songs to dull the itch, to quell the rising tide in his chest. Jack stays high-energy as a rule when working, whenever he's in charge of music or the few times he's MC'd, so it's not challenge to be distracted, but every now and then he discovers that he's played a song easily applicable to Mark. Without fail the bartender will draw his gaze and Mark will meet his eyes when he looks over to the bar. In these moments Jack plays another song afterward sure to break tension, and he watches Mark smile or laugh across the room.

Probably against his better judgment, Jack lets Mark bring him drinks all night. He sees that Mark wants to stay when he drops them off, but after a short burst of conversation he makes his getaway before he can invite himself into Jack's space again. Jack gets a little bit of a buzz going, but he can still spin just fine and he's not tipsy or dizzy at all, so he doesn't consider it a problem. Not to mention, the man of his dreams is willingly feeding him liquor. He is not about to complain.

Jack goes on mic, one of the few times that night, to briefly say, "Hey laddies, sorry to say but this is our last song. The night is young and I'm sure you're all on your way to the next bright jewel of the night, but you're welcome to stay after hours to help clean up." The crowd boos and laughs, and Jack chuckles. "Yeah, I didn't see it happenin' either. Be safe on your ways home, and take this one with you when you go." 

The last song Jack plays starts slow, a guitar melody to start and then a low beat to back it up. After the first verse the beat picks up and escalates further into the song. The lyrics are simple, sultry and a bit cute. They speak of lust and love alike, both in the new phases. It's a hopeful, sexy song.

Mark is next to him almost the instant the house lights come on. "I liked that one," he says, smiling as he invades Jack's personal bubble and brings him close. 

Jack leans into him, feeling the heat of his body like a drug on his skin. "I thought it might be a conversation starter, keep things rollin'."

Leaning his forehead against Jack's, Mark sighs, a happy sound. "You and I will never have issues with communication. All I want to do is talk about you, with you, get you... vocal." He meets Jack's eyes. "If that's still what we're striving for here."

"You're not gettin' away now, after all that work I put in," Jack muses, resting his hands on Mark's stubbly cheeks. "I don't twerk for just anyone, you know." He strokes down Mark's face, then up into his hair, pulling him close. "You should feel privileged. I put out all the stops."

With a grin, Mark leans in and kisses him. It starts brief but Mark lingers as he pulls back, their lips just barely brushing, and Jack pulls him back in for more. His mouth hungrily bites at Mark's lips, sucking and nipping until Mark gasps and grabs at his hips.

"We are still in public, and very on display," Mark says, his voice holding the slightest waiver as he pulls away. "Get your stuff packed up, and I'll meet you at the back door." He pecks Jack's lips with his and then darts off, jumping from the stage and half-sprinting to the bar.

As Jack is putting away his laptop, headphones and cords, Felix materializes at the base of the stage, looking smug as all hell. "Jack. Why, you're positively glowing. Someone getting some male attention?"

Jack flushes. "You be quiet, you meddler. I didn't need your help, and you know it. You just like to make my life hard."

"Call it what you want, you're getting yourself spanked tonight, and thank God for that," Felix smirks.

"I do not lik--" Jack stops himself, blushing furiously. "Fuck you."

Holding back laughter, Felix grins. "Text me tomorrow, we can all go out for breakfast." Felix waves as he walks off through the emptying club, towards the front door.

Bag over his shoulder, Jack makes his way to the back door, passing bouncers and other employees on his way. When he gets there Mark hasn't arrived yet so he leans back against the wall and pulls out his phone. 

Two rounds of Candy Crush later and Mark appears, looking a little out of breath but happy. He comes right up to Jack and kisses him, holding him back against the wall by his face with Jack's phone still in one hand. He smells like cologne, soap and liquor.

"How many drinks did you spill on yourself tonight because you were watching me?" Jack wonders aloud when Mark steps back, his eyes devilish.

"Four," Mark grins, kissing him quickly before taking his hand. He leads him down a hallway behind a locked door, which Mark unlocks, and up a double flight of stairs to an unmarked door. Mark unlocks that too and pulls Jack inside, shutting it and snicking the lock again behind them.

Jack is momentarily blinded when Mark switches on the light by the door, and he gives a muttered, "Sorry." Jack looks around. The space is completely open concept, no wall or doors except a wide triple-door closet by the entrance and one door off to the left of the kitchen area, which Jack can only assume is the bathroom. The bedroom area is in the back of the loft, the bed tucked into a corner and furniture blocking it slightly in from view. The living area is pretty untidy, with clothes here and there and papers, random belongings or dishes on most surfaces. There's a few dirty dishes in the sink but aside from that the kitchen is clean. With amusement Jack steps forward and retrieves a tie off the door handle of the refrigerator. It's so... bachelor, and imperfect, and Jack loves it.

"Alright, now I know you're judging me," Mark says warily, studying Jack's expression.

Jack is smiling when he shakes his head. "No, just observin' the livin' quarters of your average single bartender."

Mark smiles, pulling Jack close with a hand around his wrist. "So I haven't convinced you out of staying here with me tonight?"

"Well, unless you have anything to confess," Jack leads off, teasing. He squeaks in surprise when Mark hefts him up into his arms bridal-style and carries him across the apartment's debris to the "bedroom", where he gently deposits Jack onto the bed.

"I confess," Mark says, stripping out of his shirt, "that I find you completely distracting." He undoes his belt efficiently, and Jack can only stare as he pushes his black jeans down his legs and steps out of them. "I confess that you are quickly becoming my personalized addiction, and even though I have your backstory thanks to our nosy friends, I still can't help but want to listen while you talk about yourself for hours."

Jack lifts both eyebrows. "You have my backstory? Who--?" But he knows, as soon as he goes to ask. "Felix. Of course."

Mark smiles, and it's unfair how attractive he is with most of his clothes off and a bright smile on his face. "5'8", Aquarius, four siblings and both parents back home in Ireland, musician since childhood but newly into the DJ thing these past few years. You work part-time in a restaurant as a waiter, but you're going to school for hotel management and one day you'd like to open your own B &B. You like sweet things, and your favourite colour is green." Mark grins. "Did I miss anything?"

Smiling, Jack beckons him forward as he crawls backwards up the bed. "You got one thing wrong," Jack says, biting his lip to keep himself quiet as Mark advances up his body, hovering over him with a curious look on his face. "My favourite colour. It's red." He runs both hands through Mark's hair.

Mark makes a small sound--a puff of air almost like he can't believe what he just heard, but in a flattered way--and cups a hand at Jack's jaw. His eyes are on Jack's own mop of acidic green hair. "My favourite colour is the same as always," he muses, grinning. "But, although it was already green, I find that I like it even more now."

Jack reddens, hiding his embarrassment with a laugh. "You're just sayin' that to get in my pants."

Mark grins. "Am I?" He's just in his boxer briefs as he kneels over Jack, and Jack notes avidly how well-muscled Mark is, a specimen of make physique. Jack is staring before he realizes it and quickly directs his gaze back up, where Mark is looking at him with mirth in his eyes. "Do you like what you see?"

Silently Jack nods, biting his lip. Mark watches his mouth, then pulls him to sit up and tugs him out of his shirt, an easy task since the fabric is so loose. More daunting are the leather pants that Jack remembers having to squeeze into, but Mark doesn't pause as he undoes the button and zip. He gets them far enough down that Jack's lack of underwear becomes obvious, and he looks up, his eyes smouldering.

"I don't wear leather, usually," Jack explains, face hot, "and Felix insisted. Somethin' about leather bein' sexy and a hookup guarantee. I didn't have anythin' that I could wear under them, so..."

"So you went without," Mark finishes huskily. He leans down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to Jack's bellybutton, a sucking moisture that curls his insides. Mark puts a hand to Jack's chest and pushes him down into the pillows roughly, causing him to huff out a short breath in surprise. Mark peels him out of his pants, discarding them onto the floor and coming back to Jack's body. He looks at Jack before murmuring, "How against rough, kinky sex are you, scale of one to ten?" Extremely distracting, his hands smooth up and down Jack's chest and stomach. 

"Zero," Jack replies, then squirms under the intense look Mark gives him. Swallowing, Jack looks up at him, chewing his lip before saying quietly, "Do whatever you want to me. I'll let you know if anythin' is too much, I promise."

Mark's breath whooshes out in a sharp breath, and he leans forward to capture Jack's mouth in a bruising, biting kiss. His hands relieve his lower body of his underwear without breaking the kiss and then they're both completely naked. Once unclothed Mark presses Jack down into the bedding with his full body, using his knees to spread Jack's legs apart so he can settle between them and fit their bodies together.

With both hands Mark grabs Jack by the waist, fingers not quite digging into his skin, but a hard enough pressure that Jack feels the grip in his soul, leaving fingerprints. Jack moans, their mouths separating when Mark shifts above him and moves their hips to brush their semi-erections against each other in an easy slide. He sighs unsteadily, fingers twitching at his sides and clutching at the bedsheets when Mark rolls down onto him. A hand rubs up his stomach, along his chest and pauses at his throat. Jack looks up to see Mark watching him, a question in those pretty brown eyes.

Jack gives a slow nod, then tips his chin up to bare his neck. Immediately the hand there closes, a firm but movable vice around him and Jack shivers. His eyes close as a second hand comes up to tease a nipple, flicking and rubbing around the rosy bud. Jack lifts into the touch, but it slips away when he does.

"Good boys don't move when they're being played with," Mark murmurs, but still it's a question.

Jack bites his lip and nods again, and Mark rewards him with a gentle squeeze around his throat. Big, warm hands roam his chest, petting and teasing as they go. Once, Mark sharply pinches Jack's nipple and he jerks hard and cries out, but forces himself not to lean into his fingers when they draw away.

Mark sucks in a slow breath. "You're doing great," he praises, one hand smoothing over Jack's thigh. "So good, baby."

Jack makes a soft keening sound at the term of endearment, wanting desperately to cling to Mark's shoulders, grab his hands and thread their fingers together, wrap his arms around Mark's neck. But he stays still, looking up at Mark with big eyes as his hand slips down over Jack's hips purposefully. 

"Christ, Jack," Mark says breathily, and his gaze is all over him. The hand at his neck loosens and pulls away and Jack whines but doesn't sit up to follow it. "You... Fuck, I just--"

Jack squirms beneath him, their hands brushing. "I know," Jack says, swallowing. Mark fixes him with a piercingly hot stare and his stomach swoops. "I feel it too." Hesitantly he reaches and takes one of Mark's hands, interlacing their fingers. The brunet holds on tightly.

Mark lets out a small laugh. "At this point I can't even decide if I want to fuck you senseless or make love to you."

"Only peasants have to choose," Jack says, straight-faced. He cracks a grin when Mark chuckles. "I'm okay with anythin'. Like I said, I'm all yours."

Mark's face gets a peculiar expression at that, then he seems to come to some conclusion. "Alright, then roll over. Ass in the air."

Jack flushes as Mark backs off him and lets him go, but he does what he's told and rolls onto his stomach, lifting up onto his hands and knees and sticking his butt out. He looks over his shoulder and sees Mark procure a bottle of lube and a couple condoms from in between his mattresses. He leaves them aside though, and comes right up to Jack. He doesn't lay along Jack's back like he thought he would but instead kneels behind him and places a hand on each of his ass cheeks, spreading them apart and clenching his fingers into the flesh.

"Mark," Jack hears himself protest halfheartedly, more out of politeness than unwillingness, but then Mark is rubbing the pad of his thumb on Jack's hole and he loses the protestation in him instantly. Jack arches his back, jerking as Mark gently slaps his open palm against Jack's ass and then squeezes each cheek. He places a chaste kiss to the base of Jack's spine, then licks a path down, down along the cleft of Jack's ass until the tip of his tongue drags along his hole.

Immediately Jack huffs out a noise, hands clutching in the bedding beneath him, and he looks over his shoulder at Mark who peers up at him even as his tongue teases at Jack's ass. "Mark, you--" But Mark never learns what he is, because when he laves his tongue harshly over Jack, the Irishman tosses his head back and groans, back arching and his ass lifting farther into the air. 

Mark strokes a hand up his back, warm and tantalizing, and it pauses at the back of Jack's neck before shoving his face down into the pillows. Jack turns his head so he's not suffocating in them and the hand draws back to spread his ass again.

"Mark," Jack says again, this time a quiet plea. The wetness pressing against him doesn't relent, though, and Mark bites at the meaty flesh of his cheek occasionally in between licks. Thick fingers keep him spread wide and Jack feels slutty and exposed, his face red with embarrassment that only spikes his arousal further. 

He pants into the pillows as Mark rubs his tongue along his crack before focusing again on his hole. The sensation eases into a warm pleasure as Mark kisses along where he just licked, then skyrockets into a peak of desire when Mark's tongue breaches him, curling inside. "Mark, fuck!" he gasps, one hand reaching back desperately to get him to stop, but the American doesn't hear him or ignores him, because his hands are firm where they hold Jack in place. Mark presses his face flush against Jack's ass, tongue delving deep into him and thrusting, curling.

"Mark," Jack squeals, giving up on getting his attention and just hoping that he doesn't die from this. Jack moves back into his movements helplessly, his pelvis rocking with every touch as he chomps down on the pillow under his face to keep from wailing. His breaths are uneven, half-gasped as he intakes when Mark thrusts inside, turning most of his breaths into moans.

His body trembling, Jack feels his cock leaking precum onto the bed beneath him. He's so aroused that his cock actually hurts, it's so swollen. But that's the least of his worries since Mark has shown no signs of stopping or slowing down what he's doing. His tongue slips in and out, rhythmic and slick, and Jack can't even say Mark's name anymore. He just breathes and moans, burying his face into his arms or a pillow as Mark wrecks him.

The stretching of his ass cheeks lessens, and Jack knows why a moment later. A finger slides into him in place of Mark's tongue and Jack gasps hard, then groans as the penetration gets friction inside his body, where he's throbbing and starving for it. Mark's hand draws back and then in again, slow and torturously deep, and Jack garbles out another sound as the heat between his legs reaches a fever pitch.

Desperate, panting, Jack begs in a hoarse voice as Mark kisses along his back, as his fingers drive him to insanity, "Please, Daddy, fuck me, please." Abruptly the hand stops, the kisses stop, and Jack whimpers pathetically. He doesn't move, even though he wants to curl up in shame, except to bury his face in his arms. His voice is muffled as he mumbles, "I'm sorry, Mark, I didn't--"

Mark's finger pulls out of him and Jack is roughly flipped onto his back. Above him Mark kneels, face flushed red with passion and his hands persistent as they fumble for the lube and condoms beside them.

Jack chews his lip, asking hesitantly, "Was... Is that--is that okay? Can I call you...?"

"Yes," Mark says fervently, tearing open a wrapper and hastily rolling a condom on himself. Next he opens the lube and smears some on his fingers before closing it and tossing it aside. Without warning or prompt he pushes two fingers back into Jack, his other hand coming to pump lazily over his reddened cock. Jack heaves out a harsh breath, his chest jumping with the exertion, and claws his hands in his own hair as he moves his hips into those heavenly hands. His whole body shakes as if it's falling apart while Mark presses kisses along his jaw, across his lower lip as his mouth gapes open on moan after moan, down his throat.

Jack rocks eagerly back into Mark's hand now, biting his lip to keep his sounds muffled but they still make it out in grunts and gasps, little _ah_ s and _oh_ s that fall unbidden from his mouth. "I'm ready, please, please," Jack moans, but Mark shakes his head and eases in a third finger.

"I'm, ah... big," Mark admits sheepishly. "You'll need it."

He can only nod, rolling his hips with Mark's fingers until the stretch turns into a consuming fire. "Mark!" Jack nearly screams when he slowly adds a fourth. His fingers rub hard against Jack's prostate and he writhes on the sheets.

"God, Jack, those sounds you make," Mark says lowly. He leaves Jack's cock to cradle his face one-handed, make Jack look at him through lust- and pleasure-fogged eyes. "Look at me, baby. You ready?"

Jack nods hurriedly, moving restlessly. "Yes, please," he begs, sighing unevenly and reaching for Mark. The brunet goes willingly, leaning over him to come together in a tongue-filled kiss that coaxes a new, tender feeling under Jack's ribs. "Please, Daddy," Jack half-sobs at his mouth, clinging around Mark's neck.

Mark guides himself in blind since Jack won't let go of him, and Jack inhales sharply at his girth when he presses in the first little bit. "You weren't kiddin'," Jack mumbles as he rotates his hips in small circles, to accustom himself. "C'mon, I can take it, s'okay," he breathes after a few moments.

Gyrating gently Mark eases his way inside, his hands all over Jack's body. Jack arches into his touches, breaths coming fast and hard and his body thrumming with a constant vibration under his skin. Mark's fingertips seem to have the remedy, and they dance along his skin like raindrops and light sparkling fires in their wake.

It takes a fair bit of movement, adjustment and lube for Mark to finally fit all the way, but once he does Jack's moans just don't stop. He's so full, so complete--he could probably die right now and he'd be happy.

"Fucking hell, you're incredible," Mark groans into his neck, hands at his hips as he grinds slowly into him. Jack can only moan in response, the sensations inside him sending him steadily to the stars. He digs a hand into Mark's hair and holds on, huffs out desperate noises with each movement that his partner makes.

Jack realizes belatedly, as Mark rides him steady and hard, that he fucking _loves_ being filled this much. He loves the fact that they had to work at making Mark fit, that he's that big. He loves that Mark cared enough to take his time, and he feels like he's... connected. He loves being so full that he can barely breathe without feeling it in his whole body. _I'm a size queen,_ Jack thinks suddenly, sidetracked.

Mark presses a shaky hand at his throat and Jack keens, arching up even as he rolls back onto his hips. He doesn't push down or squeeze his fingers, but just lets his hand rest there as a presence, an idea rather than an action. His movements are a little uncontrolled now, his hips faster than before and more urgent. He interchanges between his eyes being shut in pleasure and being glued to Jack below him.

Swallowing the hesitation in his throat, Jack watches Mark's face for a moment before he leans up and locks their lips together. Taken by surprise, Mark sighs into the kiss and lets Jack lead, turning his head this way and that as he drives Mark onto his side, and then his back. Once Jack sits on top, he pulls back and--before Mark can really catch up--rocks his hips down onto his cock, eliciting a hard groan from his own throat, and one to match from Mark.

"Jack," Mark gasps when he leans forward and spreads his legs, lifting his hips up and down like he was doing not five hours before. His pace is brutally fast, Mark's cock filling him and withdrawing and filling him again in a heartbeat, and Jack feels Mark's body tensing underneath him. His own body is dangerously close and he's pushing hard for both of them to reach completion.

Mark's hands clamp on his thighs, hard enough to leave marks. "Jesus Christ, Jack, I'm--I," he stammers, unable to formulate whatever he needs to say, but Jack has an inkling. He slams his hips down onto Mark, causing Jack himself to groan as the heat in his groin begins stoking to a roar. Below him Mark lifts his hips into his downward movements, and that seems to be doing it for him because he's grabbing Jack's waist with a death grip and pounding his hips up into him, a harsh, growling cry escaping him as Mark climaxes. Jack slows, riding him at an easy pace as he comes back down.

The second he's coherent Mark rolls them back over and takes the undersides of Jack's knees, bending them forward until they touch his chest, and starts slamming into him. Jack's eyes roll back in his head, his throat hoarse as he cries out, a screaming moan torn from him. He feels Mark deep inside him in this position, deeper than before, and he gasps with each breath as he tries to cling to whatever sane pieces of him are left.

"C'mon," Mark grunts, hips like a life-ruining piston, "come for Daddy."

Jack shoves his clenched fist into his mouth and smothers his drawn out cry of pleasure, his vision going completely white as he convulses and comes all over himself. As he floats back down Mark slows his pace and thrusts into him steadily, casually, like they're just having a conversation. 

Jack stares at him blearily. He thinks he has cum in his hair, and all over his face. "How are you still hard?" 

Mark grins, a fucked-out but immensely pleased expression. "Refractory period like a god. You're in for a treat."

Jack moans, but this time in despair, and Mark just laughs. He pulls out very slowly, and Jack gradually accustoms himself to the feeling of being empty. Mark carries him to the bathroom, where they shower together and he delicately lathers his body and washes his hair. Jack uses his fingers to try cleaning himself a bit, but when Mark catches him he takes over and does a much more thorough job.

With a shit-eating grin on his face Mark sets a damp but sated Jack back into bed, the bedding having been switched for clean sheets. As Mark crawls in after him after shutting off the light, Jack yawns.

"Tired, hey?" Mark asks softly, brushing Jack's slightly wet hair away from his face in the dim light cast by the street lamps outside. "Go to sleep. We can always have more fun in the morning."

Jack scoffs. "I don't know what you think I'm made of, but if we fuck in the mornin' then you better bet your bubble butt that I'm gonna be Daddy."

He watches Mark visibly shiver, notes his own physical response to the words, and their eyes meet. _No,_ Jack supposes mildly, _that wouldn't be too bad at all._ Mark smirks, shaking his head at himself before laying down and pulling the blankets up over both of them. 

"You can be Daddy in the morning," Mark murmurs. "As long as we can sleep now."

"Deal," Jack yawns again, and then there's a short, uncomfortable silence as Jack hesitates to cuddle with him. He scoots closer, hears the exasperated sigh next to him before big arms circle him and bring him back against Mark's chest.

"I'm always the big spoon, though," Mark adds in a mumble, his lips pressing to Jack's ear in a gentle kiss before he lets his head rest on the pillow.

Jack smiles helplessly, his eyes drooping as his fingers stroke along the arms caging him in. He's never felt so... comfortable with someone, in all his life. Never like this. But, then again, Mark appears to be a lot of firsts for him. What's a few more?

 

He wakes up to bright sunlight streaming in through the half-shuttered windows. Jack squints at the offending light source, then rolls over and yawns. He peeks his head up off his pillow to see Mark's impressive bedhead, strands of hair that wave and curl in haphazard directions. The bartender is deep in sleep, his torso shifting slightly with each breath. Gently Jack sneaks out of bed--noting that his legs are about as useful as a baby panda's--and pilfers a pair of athletic shorts from a dresser drawer then hunts for his phone in the apocalyptic disaster of clothing. He finds it beneath the cursed--but admittedly effective--leather pants.

Jack sighs, rubbing his face when he sees fifteen texts and three missed calls from Felix. He reads the latest one. _Hey, sex maniac! Quit having seconds and come for fucking breakfast!_ Surprisingly, Jack sees that he responded to the text but he hasn't had his phone since last night. He quirks his brow, scrolling up and then down again to the latest message, but it's still his. It says, _no thanks, I already ate_ with a winky face emoji. 

Blushing scarlet Jack looks up at the bed, where Mark is wide awake and looking at him. He startles, then accuses, "You texted Felix on my phone!"

"You got out of bed without a hall pass," Mark retorts. Jack snickers, and he adds, "C'mere, I haven't had nearly enough of you yet."

Jack sighs, coming to the bed and crawling back in. Mark gives a significant look to the athletic shorts, which Jack discards with a roll of his eyes. "Why did you text Felix?"

Mark shrugs, pulling Jack close and gently knocking his phone from his hand. "Mostly because I couldn't help myself at such a golden opportunity, but also because I didn't want him to wake you up." His look turns mischievous. "Now that you're up, however..."

Jack laughs when Mark's hands slide low down his body, over his ass and down his thighs before coming back up. "You, sir, are complete trouble." He lets Mark roam his hands over his body, lighting little sparks of feeling beneath Jack's skin and kindling the low-burning flame within him that Jack doubts will ever go away, as long as he's near Mark. He's already half-hard, Mark's eyes already cloudy with desire, and then they're kissing, hands everywhere as they both urge to touch. 

Suddenly Mark's front door slams open with a sound like a gunshot, and a voice cries out, "Jack! Mark! I come bearing food and salutations! So get the fuck dressed."

With a surprised shriek Jack's naked ass dives under the blankets, hissing at Mark as he does the same, "I thought you lived alone!"

Sighing Mark says, "I do, but Ty has a key and he abuses it religiously. Like when he knows I got laid and therefore wants to make my day awful."

Jack pales. "Ty? As in Tyler? As in my brand new boss?"

Mark moves on top of him under the covers, growling low as he nips along Jack's neck. "Technically I'm also your boss. Co-owner of _Ecstasy,_ and all that."

A small thrill goes through Jack at the words, and he considers the truth of Felix's statement about the steaminess of sex with a boss, or supposed boss. "So, Mr. Boss Man," Jack says, sultry. "Whatever could I do for you this morning? Maybe a cup of coffee?"

"Hmm, I need to do an evaluation first," Mark purrs, his lips caressing the skin behind Jack's ear and making him shiver. His hands smooth up Jack's back and they roll, Mark keeping him close as they end up with Jack on top. "To make sure your performance isn't compromised from... certain activities."

Jack smirks, kissing a path down Mark's neck to his Adam's apple. There, Jack presses a single kiss and says, "Anything for a raise."

"Can both of you please stop, I'm going to throw myself out a window right away," Tyler calls from somewhere in the apartment. "Mark, if you've bedridden my new DJ with your monster dick then I will actually sue you."

Jack gives Mark a shocked look. "How does he know how big your dick is?"

"We grew up together," Mark replies. "Inevitable, to say the least." Raising his voice and temporarily poking his head out of the blanket, he calls out, "Ty, go suck someone else's dick besides mine, okay? I want an actual nice morning where I can enjoy myself with another human, very sexually, without you being here."

"I bring you fucking pancakes and this is the respect I'm given?" Tyler scoffs. "Tell Jack to dump you, because you don't deserve him, you bastard." He grumbles something unintelligible, then, "There are other Jacks to flap, you know. Like the fucking flapjacks that I brought you useless bed slobs."

At that, Mark looks up at Jack, his eyes searching. "Well, there's only one Jack that I want, and I've got him."

Jack smiles and kisses his nose, a bubbly feeling finding its way into Jack's chest. His hands wander over Mark's arms, strong and capable, and Jack remembers being carried by them with stupid, giddy happiness. He plants kisses down Mark's chest, licking a little when he gets down past his bellybutton. Mark hums, pleased, and his hands grip around Jack's arms to pull him back up. He kisses Jack, putting both hands on his neck and holding him there so Mark can taste his mouth, as if it's a fine delicacy. Jack melts like warm chocolate, smiling like a dumbass into the kiss and lifting his hands to lazily play with Mark's disaster hair.

Footsteps approach and stop at the bedside. "I know you horny fucks are in there," Tyler says, amused, when the couple goes still under the blanket. "I'm leaving. I brought you food back from breakfast, because I know Mark needs to go grocery shopping and who knows if either of you are even able to walk. God, my fucking mind needs to be bleached. And Felix says you owe him details. Me, you can spare those, thanks. But please, make sure you're both in working condition. I can't lose two critical employees to reckless sex bouts. I am looking at you, Mark Fischbach," Tyler says emphatically. "Anyway, have fun, or something." Tyler walks away, and a few moments later the front door opens and shuts again.

Wearily Mark rubs a hand over his face. "I'll just apologize now for anything he ever says and does, starting today," he mutters.

Jack looks down at Mark, his expression soft. Fluidly, like a dance, Jack's hands roam Mark's body. "You know," he says conversationally, but quietly, "interfering friends aside, I don't think any other night could top last night. And no mornin' can compete with this one."

"I see a familiar trend there," Mark muses. "Specific person, even. You ought to keep such a guy in your life, indefinitely. Seems to be good for your happiness."

"You are good for me," Jack agrees softly, smiling as Mark's hands tease at his lower back. "Great, in fact. Somethin' about you just meshes with me, and I can't seem to get enough of you."

Mark looks away and smiles but his eyes don't stray for long. "And we both know where and how far my emotions go."

Jack places a hand under Mark's chin, kissing him gently but soundly. "Enlighten me," Jack suggests, his lips quirking.

"Well, you're a sizzling little firecracker, and every time I touch you I burn in the best way," Mark murmurs, grinning lopsidedly. "You've got a cute, bright face that I just want to kiss until I see starlight, and a body that makes me instantaneously hot and bored to death of anything that isn't you." His fingertips tickle the skin on Jack's back, making him shiver pleasantly at the sensation. 

Jack arches his back with a low moan when Mark kisses his way up his neck, one hand sliding between them to pinch at a pink nipple. Mark rolls them so Jack's below him again and he smiles when Jack looks up at him and chews his lip. "What's that look for, babe?"

Smiling shyly at the pet name, Jack sighs and studies Mark's face. "I really can't go again right now," he admits, ruefully smirking as he puts both arms over his shoulders. "You ruined my ass a little bit."

With a chuckle Mark lays down beside him, slipping an arm beneath his neck and using his other hand to pull Jack nearer. Jack goes willingly, eagerly, kissing Mark when he leans close and wraps both arms tightly around Jack. His palms wander Jack's back, making his sensitive skin sing with light pleasure and he sighs contentedly. When Mark breaks the kiss to leave a trail of kisses up his jaw Jack whines, but Mark gently shushes him, lips brushing his ear.

"I didn't know that I was starving 'til I tasted you," Mark murmurs, but melodically. Jack frowns slightly and goes to pull back but Mark holds him close. "Don't need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo." Jack stiffens in recognition, his face going pink--they're the lyrics to the last song that Jack played the night before, the one he played specially for Mark. "By the way, by the way," Mark sings lowly, his voice a humming, rumbling bass against Jack's skin, "you do things to my body." He gives Jack a light slap on his rear, making him jump and squawk in surprise. "I didn't know that I was starving 'til I tasted you."

"The more that I know you, the more I want to," Jack sings softly, forehead pressed to Mark's temple. He feels a shake in his hands when he slides them up his partner's neck--just barely, but there. "Somethin' inside me's changed, I was so much younger yesterday."

Mark's fingers along his ribs press a little harder. "You know just how to make my heart beat faster," he says, quiet, and pulls back to kiss Jack again. Mark keeps him close as their mouths move, their chests pressed together and one of Mark's legs insinuated between Jack's as he moves his body in small rolls of his hips. Slowly, invitingly Jack opens his mouth and Mark licks inside, gradually stealing Jack's breath with the touch of his big hands and skilled mouth until he's panting against Mark's lips.

Mark pulls away, smiling, so Jack and he can catch their breaths. "Something inside me has changed," Mark says, no longer singing, and at such close proximity his eyes are catastrophic to Jack's heart.

"What are you doin' later?" Jack asks, soft and hesitant. 

"You," Mark replies, amused, and Jack chuckles. "But I also have to go get groceries some time in the immediate future, like Ty said. And wash my car, because it's filthy. And do laundry, and wash dishes, and vacuum, and--"

"Want some help, hun?" Jack asks him, almost stumbling over the endearment. Mark kisses him again, his big arms crushing him pleasantly into his chest. 

"There's a lot of things I want from you," Mark says, leaving kiss after kiss against Jack's lips. "Nearly all of which are frowned on being given in public, so let's get this shit done so I can raid your body all over again."

Jack laughs as Mark lets him go, sits up and bounds from the bed to get dressed. He tosses Jack's shirt at him once he's got himself into a pair of boxer briefs, and then twists his mouth in a confused smile as he picks up the leather pants Jack wore last night. 

"What should we do with the magic sex-fetching pants?" Mark asks him.

"Let's have a seance and burn them," Jack says, making a face. 

"Therapeutic, I like it," Mark laughs, tossing the pants onto the bed. He digs in a drawer for a few seconds before he pulls out a pair of light wash jeans. "These are too small on me now, but they should fit you just fine."

Jack takes the jeans, smiling helplessly. He watches Mark putter around his room, bending to pick up clothes and either toss them out into the apartment to be washed or back into a dresser to be worn again. Jack gets to his feet, not without difficulty, and moves up behind Mark to kiss across his shoulders. 

"With that kind of nonsense we'll never leave my apartment today," Mark says, sounding stern. He chuckles though, then sighs unevenly when Jack's hands slip around to his front, teasing under the waistband of his boxer briefs.

"Did you honestly think that was goin' to happen?" Jack muses, then bites at the back of Mark's neck. He makes a soft keening sound and a tan hand comes up to brace on the dresser in front of them.

"I was going to attempt it," Mark argues weakly, because Jack's got both hands around his cock, which is hardening and growing as they speak. "Oh, god, your hands are amazing."

"So's the rest of me," Jack says arrogantly, rubbing his half-erection against Mark's ass. 

"Thought you said you couldn't go again," Mark says, but the words are empty of conviction as he pushes back against Jack's hips and then forward again into his hands. Jack kisses up and down the side of his neck, then bites down again, harder this time. Mark cries out, his filling cock twitching in Jack's grip.

Jack not-so-gently pushes Mark forward until he's pressed against the dresser and slides Mark's underwear down his legs for him to step out of them. Roughly Jack takes his hips with one hand, leaves the other at his neck where he grabs tightly, and grinds himself forward against Mark's ass. Jack feels his cock rest between his cheeks and keeps moving, thrusting his hips up and forward in a slow, tantalizing roll. "I'm beginnin' to think you have that effect on me," Jack says, grinning wide when Mark moans quietly.

When Jack looks up he sees Mark looking back at him over his shoulder, eyes half-lidded and lower lip caught between his teeth. _He's fucking beautiful,_ Jack thinks, blindsided by sudden emotion. He lets his hips slow to a crawl, meeting Mark's eyes. "You know what you have to do," Jack tells him, voice low and authoritative.

Mark goes red and his body shifts slightly, in unease or anticipation Jack doesn't know, but he still says in a half-whisper, half-moan, "Please, Daddy."

Jack smiles and presses a chaste, rewarding kiss to Mark's shoulder. His hands are unsteady when they move Mark to the bed, when they push him down on his back and spread his body out like an offering. Jack sits and stares, enjoys the feeling he gets when Mark stares back at him with that needy expression, his face red as a cherry. He waits until Mark squirms, hips rising up in the air like if he moves enough Jack will take pity on him.

"Daddy," Mark begs, his eyes wild with desire, "please, touch me."

_Well,_ Jack muses to himself as he lowers, _he did say please, after all._

**Author's Note:**

> this entire thing is probably a mess and i am sorry for everything


End file.
